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Moving on from grief; my journey to accepting acceptance

As I walked into my house late, arriving home just before midnight after a long ten hour travel day, carrying my youngest to her bed, whose birthday happens to be the following day, a quiet stress in the back of my mind as I have nothing planned. She wakes in and out of sleep as I place her down asking to watch the Trolls movie before bed , as I shush her that its very late and to go back to sleep. I walk past Lily’s photo that sits outside what was Lily’s room but is now Hopes. I pause for a moment, as a tiny quiver of shock goes through me, why did I enjoy this trip so much? For so long, five years to be exact I cannot remember really enjoying anything, not fully, not appreciating what or where it was we were, we have gone to Hawaii twice and Mexico once since she died, I “enjoyed” those family trips, but if I am honest, I was never happy during them, not as I felt during this trip. Was it not having thought about her as much? No, that’s ridiculous, of course I thought of her, but perhaps the veil has lifted, maybe the dark clouds that I felt attached to my heart lessened their grip. She is always in my heart but during this trip it was not like it is when I am at home surrounded by her memory, her presence, our loss.

Having just returned from an incredibly satisfying family trip, one that was to be underestimated but had over returned; that was fully dreaded, line ups, fast food, adults in costume, ugh, Disneyland. But we planned to see lots of other parts of California as well. Who knew the republic that is the state of California is so beautiful; San Clemente pier, Huntington Beach, Pasadena Ranch, even LA and Anaheim were cool to drive through, which started my pondering……

Guilt approaches my thoughts, but I quickly realize, no, that is not right; I deserve a reprieve from my self-imposed guilt. I am proud for the hard treacherous journey my grief has taken me through, what I have learned, how I have changed and grown. I am happy I was able to enjoy such a memorable family trip with my still living children, to be present for the first time in….well, how long makes me sad for them, my beautiful children that are alive, the ones that have received less of their mother because she has been stuck in a whirlwind of her grief. The one that has yelled too quickly because of their interrupting, poorly timed ways, their normalness, brought noise into my grief, where I wanted so much to simply be alone in silence. I have loved them, fed them, clothes and cleaned them, yes. But the mom that used to wrestle and laugh so freely has been trapped in a broken heart. That realization alone makes me sad for them, for me. I needed my time, I cannot believe five years past in a fog, although, it was thickest the first few years, it is lifted seemingly, I think. I am sure it will roll in from time to time and I welcome it, but I am also happy to feel happy again. I am happy to have a random dance party with loud noise at no notice with my kids. If asked, I wonder what they’d say of the last five years. Probably not much, as we all know, we are all way more self centered then we see. They may not have even noticed my withdrawal, not as I felt it, or see in hindsight. I was harder on them and they loved me more.

My heart now an ache for the time that has past, five years in a child’s life is huge, and the physical, emotional and mental growth that happens. I cannot go back; I can cherish specific moments of course, but am happy to feel other enlightening emotions again. Happy to be the present mother they deserve. I still miss and love my child that died five years ago, but my acceptance of her death has come with the revelation that I cannot change the past, nor need to dwell in its circumstances. But do need to focus on what we had and still have. This by no means that she will be forgotten just remembered differently, without the pain of guilt and remorse; but with love for the luck of having had her for a moment, along with the life lessons she has taught.

It brought me to a conclusion, if only for myself. We are all aware, some mildly, some very familiar with Elizabeth Kubler Ross’s five stages of grief. At some point in raw grief after a loss, we want answers we want to understand what is happening; at times we are so lost we want to know if and when it will end. So Ross’s theory of five stages is where we inevitably find ourselves reading about. At first I agreed with them whole heartedly, it makes sense for grief to have a timeframe of stages, all of which also make sense in completing in order to “move on”, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance but what comes with these stages is not a time frame put on them by Kubler-Ross herself but by society, Somewhere, over time, since her now famous book called ‘On Death and Dying’ was published in 1969, society has given the grieving about a year to get through their stages of grief, a few months to mull in each one. This is where I completely disagree with societies standards on grieving, seeing as it has taken me a five full years to get to acceptance, one could say each stage deserves a full year to fully live in and become aware of the stage your are at. For example the first year I was trapped in denial not even aware I was, because it was the shock that took quite a while to wear off, then a denial that I could not really comprehend that this had happened to me, to her, to us. I honestly did not believe it for a very, very long time, combined with the night terrors caused by the PTSD I suffered, it felt like a dream at times, with me not being able to wake up. Then the anger came, but it came at a time when a lot of people thought I should have been done grieving, after a year. And yes, I was angry, at everyone and anyone that dare mention her name, or their grief! The bargaining came in different forms around year three, begging for bad things to not happen, hadn’t I gone through enough? I would do more to help others if only my living children would be left alone. As depression sets in due to the length of time that has passed, you feel confused, others wonder what’s’ wrong because it has been so long, although in reality, is four years that long? So you begin, again, searching for answers, or help, or ways to move forward because you have spent time in the other stages you are ready to deal with this depression, and not that long ago, as I said earlier, the trip I just took with my family was the first I really enjoyed, felt at peace and allowed myself to be happy. Had I reached acceptance? And if I had why did I feel bad about it? Did I assume I would grieve forever? Yes. Was I prepared to grieve forever? Yes. Often when the tears came less frequently just that fact made me sad, like the further away her life moved, the less I felt her in my heart, but that is not true. I can take as many moments I want to remember her and should be thankful the whirlwind does not just snatch me up as it used to, but it is a process of constant awareness, as well as, allowing myself to still grieve if I felt the need, but also to feel happy with what we have and where we are at, without guilt. Everyone’s journey is different but I think if we can all collectively agree that each stage deserves a year and not to expect someone to feel normal until year five the burden of grief will be lessened on the grievers. But also to so mention it is not limited to this time frame, I have met parents that did not feel “normal” until year seven and ten, what I am trying to say is that the notion that grief lasts a year is ridiculous, the notion that it never ends is also silly though, I once believed it would never end, and I still have moments of intense sadness, clearly not as frequent or uncontrollable but today five years later and I am able to laugh freely without shame, enjoy moments without guilt. I am not saying yours will only last five years, everyone’s journey is different and some grief may only last a couple years. All I know is that back in those first six months when I attended bereavement meetings a blubbering mess barely able to string coherent words together, the common sentiment to me from those that had multiple years, some decades behind them and their grief, they said, ‘it does get better’ and I was so comforted by that phrase. And the fact that they saw my pain and came up to me to tell me it gets better in hopes of lessening my pain. I appreciated those words, as I hope you appreciate mine now. It does get better, in your own time at your own pace.

Thanks for reading,

Namaste,

Sheri

Ps, I would love some feedback, I started out intending to write a completely different post about my vacation without my fourth child but in following my heart and letting my fingers type, I am surprised at the conclusion and turn it took. If you have a similar experience with grief or writing or any other feedback on my conclusion please comment below. Thanks – much love.

12 thoughts on “Moving on from grief; my journey to accepting acceptance”

Sheri, sending love as always… I want to come back and re-read this whole post from start to finish when I have more time. I can’t remember if I already mentioned to you in another comment, a book I came across a few weeks ago? “The Five Invitations” by Frank Ostaseski (might be a little off on the spelling). Just came out in last couple of months, I believe. I’m a little more than halfway through. Based on your posts, I think it’s one you might appreciate.
I’ve seen quite a few “revisits,” perspectives, revisions of Kubler-Ross’ original Stages. I think one of them was even written by her. Most of the things I’ve read talk about how “linear stages” is not the best description or expectation, that the labels may apply but that they move in a much more circular, overlapping fashion.
Here’s an excerpt from the book I mentioned above:
” Grief can be so powerful that instead of surrendering to its force, we reach for information and models that outline predictable stages of grief in the hopes that they will take us through our grief more easily. In so doing, we run the risk of confusing the map with the territory. Journeying through grief, it can indeed help to get familiar with the terrain, to know something of its patterns. But there is no “right” way to grieve, no timetable, no one path. And there certainly are no shortcuts through grief. The only way is straight through the middle.
We don’t get past our pain. We go through it and are transformed by it. At Zen Hospice Project, our volunteer coordinator Eric Poché came up with a simple formulation that we often used to describe grieving. We speak of loss, losing, and loosening. These are not stages, nor are they meant to be a map. There is no linear progression through grief. Loss, losing, and loosening are simply common experiences that we might cycle through as we grieve, or that might suddenly exploded to the surface of our awareness.”

The next few pages expand upon these three phases with specific examples.

I’ll probably return with another Comment after I re-read…

Thank you again for continuing to share your own experience so honestly and openly.

Thank you so very much Rachel, taking the time to not only read and share your thoughts but to recommend something, I love love reading and growing and learning and appreciate it more, because, I feel like the Google searches for books are paid for, but personal recommendations are true and usually the best. Thank you 💙

The grief stages and timeline has always bothered me about Kubler-Ross. Grief is not so clean cut. The stages are good guidelines, with the hope of eventual acceptance. I’m glad you are there. Some won’t get there fully, or skip a stage or go in and out of different stages in different orders. Grief takes as long as it takes. It takes longer than society sees as reasonable. I’m surprised by this writing from you. My heart is happy for you and so proud of you for letting yourself be happy. Love you, lady and Lily. The girl that prepared you for all this. Your heart seems open and you can handle anything…you already have.

I wish I had more to say but “thank you” for sharing your heart. In a society that evades grief, your story and heart help me to understand deep grief in a way that perhaps someday, I may be better able to hold space for a loved one, a stranger and myself as well. I hope to be some kind of support and friend to you and your family as well. Your warm hearts are so appreciated in our days.

I love reading your words, you are an amazing life teacher, an inspiration and ray of hope to all of us who feel vulnerable, and heartbroken because of loss.
Thank you for being so true to yourself and sharing with the world.
Your very proud mom💞

I’m really sorry for your loss , but from the core of my soul I say to you that the bond between a mother & her child is unbreakable so I still feel that your bond with your child isn’t so fragile that death can corrupt it, your kid still lives & breathes within you. So hold on to the special memories & the sweet moments you shared with your child, keep your head up. May you and your family forever smile as big as river Nile ❤